


catching bullets

by Pomfry



Series: Jondami Week 2018 [1]
Category: Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Damian is a vigilante, Jon is his besotted boyfriend who fixes him up, Jondami Week 2018, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 05:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13652043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry
Summary: “Damian, you’re crazy,” Jon sighs, watching as his boyfriend struggles to hold all of his books. “Just go put them in your locker.”Damian scowls at him, tucking his biology book under his arm and managing to keep his history book still in his hand. “My locker,” he says waspishly, “is on the other side of the school. I do not have time to go to my locker between classes.”Jon rubs at his forehead tiredly. “Then put them in your bag,” he says.





	catching bullets

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Jondami week! I'm just in time!

“Damian, you’re crazy,” Jon sighs, watching as his boyfriend struggles to hold all of his books. “Just go put them in your locker.”

Damian scowls at him, tucking his biology book under his arm and managing to keep his history book still in his hand. “My locker,” he says waspishly, “is on the other side of the school. I do not have time to go to my locker between classes.”

Jon rubs at his forehead tiredly. “Then put them in your bag,” he says. “You’ll be fine.”

Damian shakes his books at him. “Do you want me to break my back? These are heavy as fuck!”

Jon eyes them warily. They are very thick and -

He holds out his hands. “Just give them to me, for god’s sake.”

Damian shakes his head. “No,” he says stubbornly, walking into English. “I can do it.”

“Damian,” Jon says, following his boyfriend like he always does, “you do realize it would take literally two minutes to put your books in your locker.”

Damian sets his books on his desk. They slam onto the plastic and make a bang that echoes. Jon gives Damian a exhausted look as everyone looks over automatically. “Damian,” he says. “Just put the fucking books in your locker.”

Damian sits down, setting his back next to his seat, watching idly as Jon does the same beside him. “Jon,” he says, “I do hope you realize that after school I have to go home immediately so I can go to a meeting. I do not have time to stop by locker which isn’t even where my car is.”

Jon just sighs and pulls out his phone. “Whatever you say.”

They have this argument every day, and every day it ends the same. Damian doesn’t put his books in his locker, he complains about their weight, and Jon tries to convince him to _just put his books in his locker._

Frankly, it’s routine by now. Route.

Jon rather thinks that Damian would be amazing in theater if he actually took it. He’s certainly dramatic enough, that’s for sure.

Damian reaches out and tangles his fingers with Jon’s as he takes out his phone too. When Jon glances over, he’s hacking into the police files to look at a case. Jon smiles helplessly, humming as Damian rests his head on his shoulder, scrolling through gruesome murder scenes and testimonies.

“You know,” Jon laughs into his boyfriend’s ear, “anyone who saw your search history would be horrified.”

“Absolutely,” Damian agrees without hesitance. “If they saw my notes they’d know that I’m a better detective than the police.”

“Yeah, you really are,” Jon says, amusement curling in his chest. “But that doesn’t mean you go after criminals.”

“Jon,” Damian scoffs, tapping on a picture. A girl’s bloody torso becomes the focus of the screen. “If I didn’t go after them, who would?”

“The police, maybe,” Jon suggests, grimacing. He’s so lucky his parents are out. Damian’s probably going to show up tonight needing medical attention and the _last_ thing he wants to do is explain to his parents why his  boyfriend is in his room at one in the morning, bleeding.

Damian rolls his eyes. “They’re incompetent fools, the lot of them. If I hadn’t busted that human trafficking ring on third, more than a hundred people would be gone.” A pause. “I’m doing what I’m good at.”

Jon laughs softly, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Yeah,” he says, voice gentle. “You are. I just don’t like to see you get hurt.”

“I know.”

Mrs. Plare walks in five minutes late as always, and the day begins.

 

\--

 

It’s two in the morning and Jon’s wide awake, staring out his window with headphones in his ears, tuned into the police radio. Damian had hacked into the frequency when Jon found out at Jon’s request, and he falls asleep to it.

Rain pounds against the glass, thunder rolling across the skies, and Jon blinks at the dark clouds.

Damian should be calling him soon to let him know he’s okay, or show up needing to be patched up.

A flash of lightning. Jon blinks, hand reaching out slowly for the extensive medical kit he bought a few months ago. He has a bad feeling in his gut. When he has a bad feeling, that usually means Damian’s bleeding and in trouble and going to need stitches.

He closes his eyes and when he opens them Damian’s there, knocking against his window and looking grumpy.

Jon rolls out of bed, padding over to his window and letting his boyfriend in. Damian tumbles inside, his red sweatshirt doing nothing to hide the blood spreading on the fabric. Jon flattens his lips into a line and helps him to his bed, briskly getting the sweatshirt off.

It’s bad, he thinks absently as he inspects the damage, that injuries like this don’t bother him anymore.

“You’re definitely going to need stitches. Maybe ten,” he says, staring at the wounds on his boyfriend’s chest. “Dammit, what did you do?”

Damian gives him a bloody grin. “I stopped a murderer,” he rasps, looking proud of himself. “He was holding a knife to his next victim’s chest. She was the girl who went missing a few days ago. She was drugged to remain still.”

Jon frowns, brushing a hand over the cuts. “I really wish that you had more protection than a _sweatshirt.”_

Damian hisses, face tightening in pain. “Yeah, me too. But I can’t do that if I don’t want people to make connections.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

He pauses in getting the needle, biting his lip. “You know,” he says quietly, “I wish that you weren’t this - this person with a heart ten times too big for you. We’re juniors in high school, Damian! Our concerns should be getting the scholarship we want for college, not - not worrying whether or not you’ll be able to hide your injuries tomorrow!”

Damian reaches out, eyes softening as he pulls Jon into a bug, wincing at the pull it makes on the cuts on his chest and arms. “I know,” he says, and by god does he know. He knows how him being a vigilante is hurting Jon, how much he wants Damian to be normal, to have normal worries instead of who is going to die or live. So does he, at times, when what he sees at night makes him lose faith in humanity, when he’s too late to stop someone from hurting another.

Father raised him to have a strong sense of justice. Damian couldn’t bear the thought of people hurting others, of someone doing something so despicable, couldn't let it happen, so he donned a mask and went out at night with nothing other than his fists.

“I know,” he says again, because what else can he say? He can’t say that he’ll stop. He can’t, at this point. He has the itch, the need to get out and _stop_ the injustices.

He can’t promise that he’ll come back okay, that he'll stay alive. In the early hours of the morning, anything is possible.

He can’t promise anything.

And, god, he wishes he could.

 

\--

 

“You know, you could store your books in your locker.”

Another day, another argument.

Jon shares a look with Damian, glances at the bandages slightly visible underneath his collar, and doesn’t say anything, only takes the biology book.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always loved and brighten up my day and are saved in my Gmail.
> 
> Also! Here's my [Tumblr.](http://nikescaret.tumblr.com) Come visit and chat with me if you want!


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